


Dawning at High Noon

by lea_hazel



Series: Decline and Fall [14]
Category: Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem (Visual Novel)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Class Differences, Gen, Politics, Princes & Princesses, Rebellion, Revaire, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-05-19 17:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19361011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: Things in Starfall City are worse than Verity had realized, she quickly comes to learn. The only good fortune is that she has Petra on her side to help her unravel it all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verity goes to the silk market and makes some new friends. On the return journey, things don't go as planned.

Winter was just starting to fade into spring when Verity first took Lyta down into the city proper. At first it was just an idle suggestion from Gisette, but when the Queen brought the subject up, Verity understood it to be something more like an order. Of course she was to be dispatched with a whole contingent of royal guards, and her routes were restricted and closely supervised. She was permitted, however, to invite a reputable companion along with her.

Lady Kavita was preoccupied with planning her fabulous equinox party, and could not accompany her and Nerissa on their leisure ride.

"You don't really need fabric for a new dress, do you, Princess?" asked Lady Nerissa when they set out from the palace.

"I very rarely _need_ a dress at all," replied Verity.

Nissa laughed. "You know that's not what I meant."

"My gown for the new year's ball is well underway, yes," said Verity, "if you must be nosy. My seamstress would never leave such a thing to the last moment."

"Diligent girl," said Nerissa. "And I suppose if you truly needed to commission a new garment, you could easily summon the merchants to the palace, and have them bring their wares for you to peruse at your leisure."

"Our ride today is the very picture of leisure, Lady Nerissa," said Verity. "The Queen has permitted me to ride down into the city. I've lived in Starfall City for most of the year, and seen almost nothing of it. Naturally, I'd like to mend that oversight."

"Naturally," said Nerissa, but her voice was drenched with skepticism.

"And," added Verity tartly, "I'd quite like to accomplish that while the weather is still mild and pleasant."

"It's true," agreed Nissa. "Summers in Starfall City turn blistering hot quite early in the year. I imagine the Queen would like to take the royal family on tour for the summer proper."

Verity frowned. "Perhaps. She didn't, last year, but perhaps that was for my benefit."

Nerissa smiled. "Maybe our trip today should be dedicated to scouting lightweight fabrics for your summer wardrobe."

Verity glanced at her sidelong, not daring to take her eyes off Lyta's reins for more than a moment. "If you happen to be in an insinuating mood again," she said, "let me remind you that I have no plans to change my dress size substantially, not in the immediate future."

"Of course," agreed Nerissa, too easily. "It's best to plan as though you have all the time in the world."

"Heavens' sake, Nissa," hissed Verity under her breath, "I'm not even nineteen years old."

"What was that, Princess?"

"I think we need to turn into the lane here," said Verity, who had studied a map of the city to prepare for her ride.

"You might ask one of the men," said Nissa, indicating the guards with a nod of her head. "Most of them live in the city proper, I believe. They must know its streets like the backs of their respective hands."

"Well?" asked Verity, reining Lyta in. "Do you know where the right turn is for the silk market?"

The man riding by her side was so young he seemed almost like a boy. He might not have been any older than herself and her brother, despite his height. His dark eyes avoided hers when he spoke.

"No, your Highness," he said. "I have no family in the city. Perhaps Tanner knows the way better than I, if you please, Your Highness." He nodded at an older, bearded man with his chin.

Verity turned to him.

Tanner was a much less timid type, and had no trouble meeting her gaze and even smiling at her. "Not this turn, Your Highness. This leads to the poultry market."

"Not what I intended for this outing," said Verity dryly.

"No indeed, Your Highness," said Tanner, laughing. "Don't you worry, we'll lead you right to where you ought to be."

"Thank you, Tanner," said Verity, and obligingly spurred Lyta to follow his confident lead.

He led them a careful route, hying to the wide, well-swept lanes that were lined with large houses and prosperous shops, and studiously avoiding the side streets. Any road not wide enough to admit three riders abreast was deemed too dangerous for the Crown Princess to ride through. Verity knew this much from eavesdropping on the briefing that the Queen had given the guards. It could not be just propriety that concerned the Queen, ever-conscious of appearances.

She had eavesdropped at home, too, after all. Sometimes she hadn't needed to do even that. All too often, her father and his ministers were content to ignore her presence, as though her silence rendered her unhearing. She gleaned not a few secrets that way, although she didn't always have the context to decipher them, at the time. Much of what they had said about Revaire -- in concerned whispers, wearing the gravest frowns -- was now falling into proper place in the puzzle in her mind. And the more pieces she collected, the more she wondered whether her Papa had not, perhaps, underestimated the gravity of the situation.

But just then they were turning into the silk market, a vast square loud with bright colors and shouting vendors enthusiastically hawking their wares. Here was something more proper for a princess to contemplate, and less troubling. Something that didn't make her feel quite as helpless.

* * *

The state of affairs in Starfall City was far worse than she could have imagined. In a state of steadily declining expectations, she chatted with friendly shopkeepers and accepted their small tokens, exchanging no money and making only the vaguest promises of possible future patronage. A mercer whom Nerissa had pointed out to her caught her eye and hastily ducked into a bow.

"Shall we go have a look at his wares?" asked Nerissa. "Not within my budget at the moment, but surely the Crown Princess always has use for another day dress, what with summer fast approaching."

"I don't know," said Verity, pretending to mull it over. "I'm not sure I should trust in my own judgment, without Lady Kavita about to offer her prodigious expertise as to the quality of the wares."

Nerissa laughed pleasantly. "I'll be sure to pass the compliment on to her, Princess."

Verity smiled innocently.

When the two of them directed their mounts towards his stall, the merchant in question straightened and snapped a quick command to the boy who was huddling behind the stall. The boy dashed forward to accept the horses' reins, holding them fast and watching with childlike fascination, while the two fine ladies distracted themselves with silks and linens. As Verity had predicted, embroidered Corvali silks dominated the display, in a dazzling rainbow of colors that could offer something for any taste. She even spotted a pale, soft seafoam green shot with silver, that she thought might suit Gisette's preferences.

"No, not the pastels, darling," said Nerissa quickly, tugging her by the arm. "They make your skin look unwell. Try these, over here."

"Milady speaks wise words," said the mercer, addressing Nerissa indirectly. "Her Highness would do well to heed her counsel. We have here many shades of pink and gold which would better suit Her Highness's glowing complexion."

He spread out an array of fabrics.

Verity's hand hovered over a particularly fine, gauzy organza.

"What do you call this shade?" she asked the man, quite directly.

"Coral, Your Highness," he answered, "like the sea stones that grow on the southern coasts, near the Corval border."

"I've never been there," said Verity wistfully.

"I think it will suit you marvelously," said Nerissa. "The fabric, I mean. Although summering on the coast might suit you as well."

"I have grave doubts that Princess Gisette would ever consent to expose her fine, pale skin to so much sunshine," said Verity.

Wound up as she was, and aware of every small gesture or sound in her immediate circle, she couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air surrounding the mercer's stall. The man's smile was just as obsequious, and his boy was obediently holding Lyta by the bridle, her dark, liquid eyes as placid as ever. And yet the temperature seemed to drop perceptibly, as soon as Gisette's name was mentioned.

Nerissa glanced at her sidelong, and her mouth quirked. She had noticed, too, and could make something more of it than Verity could.

"My opinion is useless to you, I'm afraid, Princess," she said, with a wide, bright smile. "It's not the ladies your gown needs to impress, after all, is it? Here we have a few young, attentive males. Perhaps we should ask their opinion, instead."

"Oh, don't," said Verity softly. "It's not their job to-- Nissa-- _don't_!"

"You there, young man!" she called out to one of the guards. "What's your name?"

The guard cleared his throat. "Alek, milady," he said, his voice croaking.

"You're only making him uncomfortable," said Verity in undertone. "Why are you doing this?"

"Do you think Her Highness is pretty?" asked Nissa, smiling a honey-sweet smile.

"Lady Nerissa!" said Verity, abandoning all pretense at subtlety.

Nissa ducked her head. "Yes, my Princess?"

"Please desist from bothering my guards," said Verity. "It is not their job to advise me on fashion. Next time, I'll bring Petra along. And perhaps I'll leave _you_ at the palace, and ask Lady Kavita to accompany me instead."

She was all penitence. "If Your Highness sees fit, but I would beg you to reconsider."

Verity made a soft humming noise at the back of her throat, and turned back to the mercer.

"Will you be at the market on the day after tomorrow?" she asked.

"If Her Highness commands it," he replied.

"I do not command it," said Verity. "I can't be certain that I'll be free to roam the city, but I would like to know, if I did arrive to the market, whether you would be present."

"I remain in Starfall City for the rest of this week and next, your Highness," said the mercer.

"Thank you," she said, graciously. "I hope I will be able to return."

* * *

Nerissa split from them on the ride back up the hill, riding on alone to the Corval ambassador's residence where she was a permanent guest. The rest of the way to the palace, Verity made alone, with her guards. Her purchases would be delivered for her, so she had nothing to carry. She felt a bit silly, being surrounded by so many guards, especially when the merchants at market had all been unfailingly kind to her, even to the point of being obsequious. Surely the men would be better employed taking watch on the curtain wall.

She turned to Tanner and was just on the point of asking him about it when it struck her that he wasn't smiling, nor meeting her eye, and in fact looked a little distracted.

No, not distracted. _Worried_.

This, she did not like one bit.

"Boy," he snapped at the young guard she had spoken to earlier.

The young man frowned and nodded, angling his mount away from the others without need for any further explication.

"Princess," he said urgently, "please, follow me."

Verity was too smart to refuse instruction from a man with a sword, who clearly knew what he was about. She made no argument, but led Lyta away from the pack of guardsmen, following close behind him. He led her a short path into a little alley, shadowed between two shops, and winding round behind them to emerge on some completely different street. Once again Verity was struck by how little she really knew Starfall City. Now, however, did not seem like an apt time to explore.

She glanced once over her shoulder and asked, "Will the others be all right?"

The guardsman smiled nervously and said, "They'll be just fine, Your Highness. Tanner knows his job, and no lousy troublemaker has ever got the drop on him, if you'll pardon my language."

She couldn't help but smile. "I've heard worse."

He snickered behind his hand, then straightened in his saddle, assuming a grave expression. "Right, then. We'd best get you safely back behind sound stone walls, Princess."

"Yes," said Verity with a sigh, "I suppose we must. Though I'd surely like to know a bit more about what's going on."

His grave mask faltered, and it made him look younger, more like a boy than a man. "That's not for me to say, Princess. My job is to get you back safely."

"Then I'd best let you get on with it," said Verity.

"Everything will be just fine, Princess," he promised. "You'll see."

"Thank you for your reassurance," she said, but faltered when she tried to recall if she'd ever asked his name.

"Alek, Your Highness," he replied to her unasked question.

"Thank you, Alek," she said, smiling.

His job, after all, was to keep her alive, not to soothe her anxieties. He could have been content to let her fret and worry, if he'd liked.

Far from keeping to the wide avenues as they had before, Alek led her on a circuitous route through the back ways of the trade district. It was far from the shabbier quarters, she knew that much, and so she didn't see much that could truly alarm her. Only street after street of houses and shops that had seen better days, peeling coats of paint that ought to have been repainted a year or two ago, slightly leaky roofs, skinny dogs and skinnier children. And these were the nicer parts of the city.

"Trade doesn't come through the city as it used to, I suppose," she murmured, mostly to herself.

"No, Your Highness," said Alek. "Lots of folks rely on their relations in the country to feed them through the winter, and a bad harvest or two hurts the city as much as it does the farmers."

"I suppose I wouldn't like me much either," said Verity, "if I were in their shoes."

Alek was silent, and she thought he would speak no more of it. She kicked herself mentally for overstepping and tipping her hand, dragging the young man into a conversation that must seem to him like a trap. Just as she was starting to spiral into self-recrimination, he spoke up again.

"I don't believe they do," he said. "Dislike you, I mean. The silk merchant you patronized seemed to like you well enough."

"Because I spent money at his stall," she argued.

"Better that the gold flow back into the city markets," said Alek, "than stay locked up in the castle vaults."

"Wouldn't it be better spent on mending roads and building granaries?" asked Verity.

"The nobles are responsible for keeping the roads in their territory, milady," he replied, "not the royal treasury."

"Then I suppose it pays your salary, then," she said.

He laughed, but quickly recalled himself and stifled the sound. "We're nearly there, milady."

Verity sighed. "I hope the others didn't run into _too_ much trouble."

"I'm sure they can handle whatever it is," said Alek. "Sometimes people just need reminded who's in charge."

"Indeed," she said. "I see my own reminder up ahead of us."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conditions on Verity's return to the marketplace are... less than ideal.

"No more riding for at least a week," said the Queen sternly, holding up a single long, thin finger.

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Verity in her best meek-Arland-princess voice, and resisted pointing out that the ride to the marketplace had been Gisette's idea, endorsed by the Queen herself.

"Not until it's safer, at least," she went on, turning her back to Verity as though talking to herself.

She began to pace the length of the room, her hands clasped behind her back. Verity sat still in her chair and waited to see whether she would be noticed or ignored.

"These incidents happen too frequently," said Violetta, "and have been going on too long. It's not to be endured."

Nothing about the Queen's agitation showed any sign of needing her response, so Verity kept quiet. With the benefit of an hour or two to calm her blood, the incident at the marketplace had left her more than a little shaken. The fact that she had only the smallest idea of what was behind her hasty evacuation didn't help matters any. She hated to be kept in the dark. Although, if she were being honest, she knew she could make an educated guess as to the cause. She'd seen enough to piece together some of the puzzle, at least.

"Are you listening to me, Verity?" demanded the Queen imperiously.

"My apologies, Your Majesty," she responded hastily. "I think the incident has affected me more than I realized."

Queen Violetta's anger deflated rapidly. "Understandable," she said. "It is our duty, after all, to shelter you from such things. Rest assured that it will not happen again. Now, you'd best go to your room and compose yourself before dinner. You look like you could use a cup of tea."

Verity agreed perfunctorily and made her retreat. A cup of tea and some peace and quiet were exactly what she needed, actually. She would send Petra to the kitchens to ask for something out of the special stores. Her desk was piled with books and letters awaiting her attention, but she felt too shaken to give any of them the care and concentration they deserved. A moment's peace to compose her thoughts, that was all she needed, and all she was likely to get. If she was very lucky, that is.

* * *

It was several weeks before the Queen relented and agreed to let Verity tour the city again, though she found a wealth of ways to entertain herself in the meantime. With the last of winter fading away, mail delivery was both swifter and easier, and Verity found herself regularly receiving both letters and packages from every corner. A box full of books arrived from Arland, each one hand-picked by her grandmother, including a brand new Onvu strategic manual, far more up-to-date than the old one she had memorized years before. And no sooner had it arrived than it was followed by a letter from Avalie, proposing to resume their long-distance duel.

But books and letters could only hold her attention for so long. Spring had arrived, and it was the finest season that Starfall City knew, free of the sweltering heat and stench of summer, as well as the sleet and fierce wind of the colder seasons. It was a brief and beautiful time, and Verity had no mind to spend it all boxed up in that vast, cold, tomb-like stone castle that she now called home. She kept her ear to the ground and tried to pick up the subtle signals that whatever civil strife the city had known was abated enough that she would be allowed out.

When finally the Queen could be convinced to let her out for a morning ride, it was only under the direst of conditions. For a moment, Verity wondered if it was even worth it, but she couldn't quite convince herself that she didn't desperately need the excursion. And what sort of Crown Princess would she be, anyway, if the only part of Revaire she was familiar with was her own halls and corridors? At least, that's how she explained it to her family, firstly to the Queen, and then, after she agreed, to Jarrod.

"A what?" he asked again, scowling down at her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"A morning ride through the city," explained Verity patiently. "I've seen almost nothing of Revaire in the past year, and I feel rather silly."

"You _are_ silly," said Jarrod flatly. "You won't get to know anything by going to the market. If you want to buy something, have the merchants called up to the palace, and they'll show you their goods there. Or send your maids down. Something like that. Just-- don't go down to the city. You have no business there."

"Are you concerned for my safety?" asked Verity. "I'm touched."

"Don't be," he replied gruffly. "If you get yourself killed I'll never hear the end of it."

"Her Majesty said I could," said Verity, "as long as I didn't go alone."

"Take some guards with you, then," said Jarrod.

"I had guards with me last time."

He grumbled, but couldn't find retort to that. "Why does it have to be in the morning?"

"Don't grouse, Jarrod," said Verity. "It'll be too warm in the afternoon. If you're going to be like this, maybe I shouldn't go at all."

His face twisted, but eventually he shook his head. "If you _must_ go, then it's better that I should be with you," he said. "Who knows what idiotic trouble you'd get yourself into, otherwise, and I don't trust those guardsmen as far as I could throw them."

"Much obliged," said Verity dryly. "Meet me at the stables tomorrow morning?"

"Will you be inviting any of your little friends to go with you?" he asked. "How many squealing girls will I have to put up with?"

"None," said Verity. "It'll just be us. Kavita is planning a function for her husband, and Nissa is... Oh, I don't know, visiting her family, or something."

She didn't miss how his face turned just slightly pink at the sound of Nerissa's name. There was something perversely comforting about the idea that he was still capable of being embarrassed, even if there was no chance that his embarrassment would lead to self-awareness. Not that she had much to complain about. It wasn't as though she was being faithful, herself.

* * *

He wasn't even especially late, which was a good omen, Verity thought. After months of trying to have as little contact with her husband as possible, it would be heartening to have a whole social interaction between the two of them that didn't end in disaster. Much as she preferred her own company, and that of her friends, she couldn't deny that as Jarrod's wife it was her responsibility to try and curb his more destructive impulses, as best she could. She could hardly manage that, when it became necessary, if she couldn't get him to trust her.

Fortunately, Jarrod was frighteningly easy to manipulate.

Verity and her contingent of guardsmen, including young Alek, were waiting by their saddled horses when the Crown Prince arrived, sullen and bleary-eyed, but undeniably awake. Verity greeted him cheerfully and accepted his grunt of reply with something like grace. After a moment's confusion, he looked her up and down and disappeared, silently, into the stables. When he emerged leading his saddled horse, a white-faced stable boy trailed behind him, hands wrung together before him.

"Take her back inside, unsaddle her and rub her down," commanded Jarrod. "Verity, come here."

The boy reached nervously for Lyta's reins, but Verity held firm and directed her eyes at her husband. "I'm riding Lyta. I need her saddled. Why did you order her to be unsaddled without asking me?"

From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the guards beside her shuffling and shifting their weight from foot to foot. A heavy silence hung in the air.

"Lyta is too slow," said Jarrod. "We'll make better time if you ride with me."

Verity sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "The reason I ride Lyta is because she's steadier than Saber and not as temperamental."

"Right," said Jarrod, "and I'm a much better rider than you."

That, she couldn't argue with.

"So just trust me," he said.

That, she could.

"I suppose you will make a fuss and refuse to set out until I agree to your terms," said Verity, biting back another sigh.

"Verity, be reasonable," said Jarrod.

At that, she very nearly literally bit her tongue.

Jarrod, seeing her expression, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards himself. Leaning down to speak softly in her ear, he said, "You didn't mind so much last time we went riding together."

He had taken her riding the day after their wedding. Verity held every muscle still by sheer force of will, to keep the shudder from running down her spine.

"Come on," said Jarrod. "Let's get going. You want to get your shopping done, don't you?"

The point of the ride was not to go shopping and he well knew it. He had even suggested she ask the merchants to bring wares to the palace, which she could easily do and had done before. She didn't bother explaining it to him. He could choose to understand it or he could choose not to, but she couldn't make him understand.

Verity shook him off and said, crisply, to the dozen guardsmen, "Let's go."

The guards mounted their horses and Jarrod followed suit, reaching down to pull her up to sit before him. With one arm wrapped around her middle and the reins in his other hand, he could still steer Saber effortlessly, and Verity couldn't deny that she envied him a little. Lyta was a fine mare, and sweet-tempered, but she had received many stinging barbs about her mount's staid disposition, and she couldn't always manage to pretend not to care. As they rode down the path towards the outer gates, she glimpsed the stable boy leading Lyta back into the stables. Some of the color had at last returned to his face.

She wondered whether Jarrod realized how often those around him treated him as an imminent volcanic eruption. Then she wondered whether he knew, and preferred it that way. Certainly he'd never seemed to expend much energy on controlling his temper.

The ride was awkward. It had been months since the two of them had spent so many hours in close proximity, especially alone. Verity couldn't say for certain whether she had avoided Jarrod consciously, or whether it was he who avoided her. Whatever the reason, she'd been content for months to be ignored, outside of the mandatory family dinners to which he escorted her every night. Now she was pressed against him, and could feel his breath brush her face every so often. At least he was wearing riding gloves.

For a while they rode in silence, accompanied by the morning sounds of the bustling city streets, and the soft chatter of the guards. Then Verity heard something that sounded suspiciously like sniffing.

"Did you change your soap?" asked Jarrod suddenly.

Verity blinked. "Yes," she answered finally. "The lavender was making my scalp itch."

"Huh," said Jarrod. "I never noticed before."

She should have worn a headscarf.

With no more unexpected comments, they made their way speedily down the road that wound from the gates of the Old Palace to the great market square at the heart of the city. The palace had the higher ground, of course, having been built as much for fortification as for rulership, and the many turns in the road, she'd learned, were a defensive measure designed to make it harder for invaders to assault the seat of power. Her father's palace was surrounded by a large green, and the neat avenues that ran from the main gates descended in a straight line towards either the river or the city gates. No army had marched on Arland's heartlands in a hundred years.

"Which market are we going to this time, Princess?" asked one of the guards.

"The booksellers' market," replied Verity.

Jarrod snorted.

"There's a particular book-binder whose shop I want to visit, and then I'd like to have a look among the stalls, to see if there's anything new and interesting," she persisted.

"You read too much," said Jarrod.

"My free time is mine to occupy as I see fit," said Verity.

"You'll wreck your eyesight, sitting alone in the dark, squinting at books all day," he complained.

"We do have candles," she reminded him.

"Physical outdoors pursuits are much healthier," he insisted.

"I agree that exercise is important," said Verity, "which is one of the reasons why we're out here today. You did agree to escort me, if you'll recall."

Jarrod grumbled something under his breath that she didn't bother trying to make out. At the binder's store, he examined the leather embossing with some interest while she got herself a new set of blank journals, and a case for her pens and brushes. He glared suspiciously at passersby while she strolled among the more transient mercantile stalls, but, not having found much of interest, she cut that part of the visit short.

While she was considering the areas surrounding the booksellers' market, she was interrupted in her thoughts by one of the guards.

"Begging your pardon, Princess," he said humbly, clasping his hands before him.

Jarrod glared him down so fiercely she could see him flinch.

"Danton, isn't it?" she said. "What is it?"

"I thought Your Highness might be interested," he said. "My sister is a baker and she said that there is a new stall at the sweets market where an Arlish merchant is selling cookies and things."

A smile broke out on her face before she could restrain herself. "That sounds lovely. I believe I should pay a visit. Do you know the way, Danton?"

Behind him, Tanner laughed. "Princess, there isn't a man in the guard who doesn't know the way to the sweets market."

"That's good to know," she replied gravely. "Lead the way, please."

The Arlish merchants in question turned out to be a cheerful, apple-cheeked married couple who welcomed their princess jovially and insisted that she sample their freshest wares. The stall was packed with spice cakes, fruit pies, sweet cinnamon rolls and every kind of cookie she remembered from her childhood. They even had lucky star cookies, of which she immediately bought a dozen without thinking twice.

"You're supposed to make wishes on them, like wishing on a star," she said.

"Wishes are for children," said Jarrod flatly, "and luck is a silly superstition for peasants. Besides, you don't need luck."

"Oh?" asked Verity, raising an eyebrow.

"You have me," he elaborated. "Nothing can hurt you while you're Crown Princess of Revaire."

She had grave doubts about that, herself. Walking through the market she had formed rather the opposite impression, that she would have been much safer if she'd been back in Arland. She never remembered her father's subjects looking at her with such malevolence as the people of Starfall City's markets directed at the pair of them.

"Anyway, I'd offer you one, but you'd find them much too sweet," she said.

"I'll be the judge of that," he huffed.

"Suit yourself," said Verity, and handed him a cookie out of the linen parcel in her arms.

The face he made when he bit into it was almost worth not being able to eat it herself.

"You're right," he said, "they _are_ too sweet."

"Oh!" exclaimed Verity. "Could you repeat that, please?"

"The cookies are too sweet," said Jarrod, a puzzled frown twisting his face.

Verity couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Not that part."

Scowling, Jarrod grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her aside. He darted suspicious look to either side and Verity became conscious, suddenly, of the attention that her outburst had drawn.

"You shouldn't laugh at me, Verity," he complained, "especially not in public, like this."

Verity raised a hand to her mouth to hide her amusement and asked, "Trying to save face?"

"It's not dignified," he sniffed.

"Would it really be so awful if the common people saw you laugh and smile and act like a person, every now and then?" asked Verity.

"How can they believe in a strong monarchy if they don't see for themselves that we are their betters?" said Jarrod.

He sounded so exactly like his father that Verity knew he must be simply repeating the words that were taught to him. She shrugged. "There's more than one kind of strength, Jarrod."

He sniffed again. "Can we go back to the palace, now? This place is too exposed. I don't like it."

She slipped her hand into his and, pitching her voice to be heard by the men, said, "You're right. Let's go home."

The guards caught her meaning instantly. Although they'd seemed to be idling, the moment they heard her voice they leapt into action, closing ranks around the royal couple. While Jarrod was still staring bemusedly at their linked hands, the men brought out the horses and prepared to set off, back towards the Old Palace. Verity thanked the baker couple cheerfully before tugging on Jarrod's hand in a vain effort to tow him towards Saber. Finally he shook his head as though shaking off his thoughts, and they were ready to leave.

He was quiet all the way back uphill, so Verity amused herself by listening to the guards chatter. There was always something to be learned from their gossip.

With both her closest friends preoccupied with their own concerns, she had the afternoon free to freshen up and rest, hiding in her shady room to escape the day's growing heat.

"I don't believe I shall ever get used to Revaire's heat," she said. "It's like baking in an oven. Nothing at all like Arland summers."

"It's worst in the cities, milady," said Petra patiently. "When you get the opportunity to visit other parts of the kingdom, you'll see that the climate in Revaire is as varied as the other six kingdoms combined."

"You exaggerate, surely," said Verity, sitting straight up from her slumped position.

"There are regions in Revaire that resemble each of the main kingdoms," said Petra, smiling thinly. "If you had a map of the kingdom, I could point them out to you, milady."

"I should procure one, then," said Verity. "That sounds instructional."

"Was the ride to the market... _peaceful_?" asked Petra delicately.

"There were no major _incidents_ ," said Verity, sighing, "but I could feel glares directed at me from every quarter. I begin to think I bit off more than I can chew."

"And closer to home?" asked Petra.

Verity straightened in her seat and turned to look at her.

"There were unusual goings on?" asked Petra.

"How did you know?" Verity demanded to know.

"Merely surmise," said Petra. "What happened, my lady?"

Verity sighed. "My _very dear_ husband seems to have expired out of his natural indifference to me. He commented on the scent of my hair, of all things. It was a deeply uncomfortable incident and I hope never to repeat it."

Petra had the delicacy not to mention how vain they both knew this hope must be.


End file.
